


Together

by Plume_Sombre



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:31:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5606896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plume_Sombre/pseuds/Plume_Sombre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the war against Aerugo, Roy meets a young man that shouldn't be here. / Gen, friendship/parental.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to RoyEd Gift Exchange on tumblr. I wanted it to be longer but I ran out of time /sweats.

 

Gunshots rained on the battlefield in a symphony of explosions. Then a whistle rang.

“Fall back! Fall back! The Flame's here!”

At once the soldiers scattered and dived on the ground behind the wall of sand bags. For a second only the enemy shooting was heard, and then sparkles sizzled in the air—flames were ignited. An explosion blew everything up and amidst the crackling of the fire, screams reached the Amestrian soldiers in what could be described as a torture now become usual.

The battlefield fell silent, disturbingly creepy as loud noises had been ripping off everyone's ears for the past hour. The Flame Alchemist marched towards the lieutenant-colonel in charge of the attack, not fazed at all by the smell of fire and burned flesh or the stunned looks on the men's faces. He seemed composed, upright and inspired great respect—the lieutenant-colonel instantly raised his hand in a salute, which the Flame gave back.

“Lieutenant-colonel Klerith,” the Flame acknowledged. “I suppose the zone is now cleared. The General gave us orders to move farther in the south to help the third squad.”

“Yes, sir,” Klerith nodded and went to gather his troops.

Roy Mustang turned back and headed towards the settlement, where they would prepare their next assault in the south. It was twenty minutes away from his current position by foot, and despite the heat he wanted to walk alone—this wasn't regulatory but he could defend himself and nobody would oppose him anyway.

It had been two years ever since the war against Aerugo began; two years of constant fighting and explosions and screams—Roy got so accustomed to them by the fifth month that he didn't feel human anymore. His rank skyrocketed within this short span of months, being promoted from Lieutenant to Colonel after a few seats had become vacant. This was disgusting; it wasn't how he envisioned his military career, how he wanted to use his alchemy. Fire alchemy was destructive, but he could protect people with it—blowing up whole places was hardly called 'protecting'. One could argue he was protecting Amestris, but his fingertips told him otherwise; they told him he was a murderer and a killing machine devoid of emotions.

That wasn't too far from the truth.

He reached the settlement without any hitch and went straight to the tent serving as his bedroom, shared with three other alchemists. The higher-ups decided that putting several State Alchemists in the same tent constituted a good idea to have powerful backup within easy reach—Roy begged to differ but he couldn't talk back. He saw with no surprise that one of his fellow companions was already sitting on a bedroll, scribbling in his notebook with concentration. Roy lifted an eyebrow and sat next to the young man, earning a jump from him and a low growl.

“Try some warning next time,” he said, glaring at Roy.

“If I were an enemy, you would be dead,” Roy retorted with a shrug. “What are you writing with so much dedication, Fullmetal?”

“Personal stuff, do you know the concept?”

The Fullmetal Alchemist rolled his eyes and resumed his awkward scribbling with his left hand, probably still unused to write with this hand—Roy suspected that the right one had been his dominant hand. He found it rather astonishing how young the Fullmetal was; the boy was barely sixteen and displayed a strong façade in the war. Explosion after explosion, barrier of stone after barrier, Edward Elric never gave up and kept fighting despite all the horrors he had seen. He joined the war one year after its beginning, one year after he enrolled; Roy thought it was too damn early for a soldier, even more for a child, to be sent to the frontlines.

He hated the haunted look on Fullmetal's face so much.

“And why are you always talking to me, anyway? I'm pretty sure there are other geezers like you in this army to entertain you,” Fullmetal continued.

Roy snorted and shook his head.

“You are in the same squad as me, I like to get acquainted with my comrades,” he offered. “Besides, talking to an alchemist is much more pleasing than discussing firearms.”

Edward paused in his movement, lifted his head, and the corner of his lips tugged upwards.

* * *

 

Fullmetal had the unique ability to perform all kinds of alchemy—like a genius. He didn't seem to specialize in anything, except maybe for a little better affinity with metals, but in the arid land separating Amestris and Aerugo's border he always managed pull a move that left hundreds soldiers speechless, Roy included. For instance, he just clapped in his hands to connect the two circles drawn on the inside of his gloves, touched the sand, and created a gaping hole in the ground to neutralize the marching enemies. In one swift transmutation he cleared out the way and enabled the whole army to continue.

But Roy noticed that Fullmetal never killed.

“Why did you become a soldier if you are not ready to kill?” he asked one day at camp. “You trap the enemy soldiers, but they either live or they die by someone else's hands.”

Fullmetal's gaze hardened at the remark and he glared at Roy, his eternal notebook in the right hand and his pen in the left.

“Are you seriously asking me why I don't become a murderer?” he spat. “It's not because it's a war that people have to die. If I can prevent that, I will. Is that a fucking crime?”

He was a child, Roy reminded himself, a child that couldn't fathom the idea of ridding the planet of several lives just to ensure other people's survival. He overheard multiple times soldiers that complained about 'Fullmetal's unfinished job' and they took care of 'fixing it'. Even though Fullmetal thought he was doing the Aerugoan a favor by sparing them, he was perhaps wrong.

“I don't expect you to become a murderer, even if this is what we are all becoming in a war,” Roy replied. “But you are naive to think that you can win and let so many people live on the other side of the battlefield. The higher-ups consider you as a precious asset so they probably won't get on your case anytime soon, but I am warning you.”

“Warn me of what?” Fullmetal growled.

“Warn you of yourself. Of other soldiers. Of the war itself. People change.”

Fullmetal didn't say anything else and turned his back to Roy.

* * *

 

“If we die here, I bet that won't change anything.”

“Don't say that. We are not going to die.”

Outnumbered, surrounded by unfavorable landscape, Roy wondered if this was a trick from fate to make him trapped with Fullmetal. His blond ponytail was messy and covered in blood, while both their uniforms were torn and smeared with blood and dirt. Roy only had one glove left but he trusted in his ability to get out of any situation with the power of his will alone.

They wandered too close to the Aerugoan settlement they were told to wipe out. Spotted, Fullmetal tried to create an escape by provoking a small sand storm, but the soldiers were disseminated everywhere in the area and they couldn't find an easy way out. They had to hide behind rocks and remains of walls. Roy could very well burn everyone and make his flames swirl all over the settlement, but Fullmetal was adamant and didn't want to kill them. _Of course._

Roy pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly.

“Casualties are bound to happen, Fullmetal, it is either us or them,” he sighed. “I am not happy to kill, but when it's necessary I don't see what else we can do.”

“Nobody should decide who's to live and who's to die,” Fullmetal scowled. “That's God's job. And even him shouldn't do it.”

Roy thought it wasn't the appropriate time to question the young man's religious beliefs and instead opted to take action.

“I respect your way of thinking, but right now I would prefer getting out of here alive. I will try to spare as many lives as possible, but I can't guarantee anything.”

He ignored Fullmetal's alarmed look and he stepped from behind the wall, snapping his fingers once that created an explosion right in front of him. Voices and shouts rose, gunfires were shot, giving Roy the general idea of where his enemies were positioned. Another snap of his fingers engulfed a group of soldiers in flames while he grabbed Fullmetal by the arm, both running as fast as they could. Roy felt they were fleeing but what else could they do?

Fullmetal broke free of Roy's hold however, stopping in his tracks and snarling.

“What the fuck did you do?! You just burned everyone to a crisp! You call that saving as many lives as possible?”

Roy narrowed his eyes and turned to face Fullmetal's angered expression, himself feeling on the verge of losing his calm—he saw shuffling in the background.

“These soldiers probably didn't die from my attack,” he pointed out. “Moreover, they weren't that many compared to the number of men in the settlement that was reported. So I suggest you calm down, and we go back to camp to report.”

Fullmetal still looked like he wanted to strangle Roy, but the Colonel wasn't fazed at all and stared at the young man sternly, trying to put together the image of a soldier that fulfilled his mission perfectly well, and the image of a child still stuck in his mentality of good deeds. Fullmetal couldn't be both; he had to choose. He either stayed on the battlefield and acted like a real soldier, either he quit to continue living in a peaceful routine. But Roy knew all too well that feeling of desperation, of wanting to save lives instead of stealing them, and he would be lying if he said he didn't see a bit of himself in the man that was standing in front of him.

“I told you that people change. You can't leave unaffected if you went through a war, and you are surely realizing it right now. You can't save everyone and you can't spare your enemy.”

Fullmetal bit his lip, his hands curling into fists, and then he let out a cry of despair as he clapped and brought down a large portion of the area into a characteristic hole that soldiers wouldn't be able to climb. Roy blinked, surprised by this sudden act, and cast a questioning look at Fullmetal. The latter stared back.

“It's not wrong to wish for something like that, is it?” he muttered. “That's the only way to stay sane. Wishing for survival instead of death.”

Roy paused, then nodded.

“I suppose it is.”

* * *

 

“Major Elric, you are promoted to Lieutenant for your bravery during the war against Aerugo. As a State Alchemist we expect you to resume your research that you are to present yearly, as well as continue your loyal services to the country by going to war again if the situation requires it.”

Edward saluted and thanked the General, who then handed him a paper. The young man took it with confusion.

“You are also transferred to be part of Colonel Mustang's team, the Flame Alchemist,” the General announced.

“Colonel Mutang's team? Why?” Edward asked, slightly frowning.

“You both displayed a great power during the war, and Colonel Mustang requested your presence in his team. I have to see other soldiers. Dismissed, Lieutenant Elric.”

Edward took a second before moving and stepping out of the room of the building, still puzzled and definitely surprised. He had not seen Mustang since the end of the war, two weeks ago, and being transferred to his team felt... odd.

He folded the paper and carefully put it in his pocket, walking in the building's corridors with no particular aim. He would need to oil his automail soon—the joint on his knee was sore and caused punctual pain that was rather annoying. He also needed a haircut. And to write to his family. So much to do, so little time...

“Are you that depressed at the prospect of working for me?”

The taunting tone was unfamiliar but the voice wasn't, and Edward narrowed his eyes when he saw Mustang walking towards him, impeccably dressed in his uniform and standing straight, as opposed to his own open jacket and his slouched shoulders.

“I wouldn't say depressed, but surprised,” Edward retorted. “You're the one who disappeared at soon as we got back to Central. What was I supposed to do? Throw you flowers for the team I wasn't aware you got?”

“Perhaps, I wouldn't have minded,” Mustang smiled.

The war had lasted two more years, and all the while Edward stuck with Mustang for a reason he couldn't quite catch yet. Maybe because he felt safe with the man, maybe because he sensed that they understood each other, maybe because they were both alchemists—either way they provided support and help, and honestly Edward doubted he could have left the battlefield without scars if it weren't for Flame; they saved each other's ass many times. After the initial frustration he felt towards the adult for patronizing him, Edward realized that he could trust Mustang.

“Are you hungry? We can grab an early lunch, and you will meet my team. How about that?”

Edward shrugged. He still needed the paycheck for his mother's medication and his brother's studies—perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to get it under Roy Mustang's command.

“Alright, but you buy me my lunch.”

Mustang, for the first time since he met him, chuckled wholeheartedly.

“Only because this is your first day, Fullmetal.”

And when Edward looked at Roy, really looked at him, he caught a glimpse of the same hollow eyes that he sometimes saw in the mirror in the morning. Heavy eyes, burdened with too many images. Scars did find their way into them, in the end.

War partners, Edward thought. Maybe this was for the best to mend their injuries together, in the same way they inflicted them on others.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This feels incomplete nfdskj
> 
> Trisha is sick, Al is studying so Ed decided to become a soldier for the money. He still has automail leg (accident probably....).


End file.
